The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men
by LovesAngst
Summary: Despite his intention to protect Tony at all costs, Gibbs finds himself living out his worst nightmare. Long time reader, first time poster. I don't own the characters but wish I did! Since it's my first try, REVIEWS would be great! NOW COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men**

**Chapter 1 - The Grab**

Christmas. All December really, was a season when Gibbs spent even more time than usual in his head. Thinking about the year, all that was accomplished, all that was lost. Those close to him. He'd damn near sanded through more than one strut on the Kelly. The last two years the team had lived through, from Jen's death, to the team being divided, the mole, to the death of Lee…well, it was more than anyone should have to put up with. God. Before that Tony had almost been lost, Ziva nearly killed, Abby attacked in her own lab, Gibbs stupid enough to place himself and an innocent young woman in danger. The year prior…well, Gibbs did not even want to go there.

Although Gibbs took pride in being a hard-ass marine, deep down—really deep, where he didn't always have to look at it—he appreciated each member of his team. He was reasonably sure that each of them, Dinozzo, McGee, Ziva, Abby, Ducky and even Palmer knew how important they were. Pretty sure.

As he stepped off the elevator Gibbs mentally quizzed himself, 'how _do_ they know?' He wasn't a Christmas-card type guy. Hell, he wasn't even a thanks-for-saving-my-life, nice-work kind of guy. He conceded that there might be times when his team didn't know, not for sure, how important they were. How damn proud he was of them. A ghost of smile lit his face at the thought. He really was proud.

'Dinozzo!'

'Boss.'

'Coffee.'

'On it boss, back in five.'

'Not what I meant Dinozzo. We're going together.' The gruffness of Gibbs expression as he marched towards the elevator was not completely convincing. Tony's face lit up with a smile

'All right! Can I drive?'

One look was enough for Tony to know he should stop pushing or he might not even get coffee. 'You're driving, got it. On your six.' The two men squeezed into the elevator just as it was closing.

Tony was still looking at Gibbs with a goofy grin on his face as Gibbs reached over to give him a gentle cuff. The 'head-slap', Gibbs realized he hadn't even been giving out enough of those lately. Must be slipping. As Tony opened his mouth to protest, a small puck dropped from the ceiling. As the two men glanced down, smoke quickly began rising from it and before Gibbs and Dinozzo had time to do anything more than cover their noses, they were sliding to the floor.

Like shooting fish in a barrel really. It couldn't have been more convenient for the man in the parking garage. The elevator opened, the agents were dragged out, relieved of their weapons and phones, and loaded into the back of the van. He wasn't particularly worried about the cameras. This was a catch and release plan, the men would find themselves calling for a ride long before anyone would be able to track their location.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 - The room with two glasses**

This was a catch and release plan, the men would find themselves calling for a ride long before anyone would be able to track their location.

Gibbs woke to find himself sprawled on a more-or-less, clean wood floor. As he pushed to his hands and knees, he spotted Dinozzo on his back still out cold from the looks of things.

'Dinozzo?!' Nothing. Damn. It. All. As Gibbs head spun trying to recall where they were and how they'd gotten here, he quickly stepped over to Tony and crouching beside him checked his pulse. Five by five. Good. He easily turned Dinozzo onto his stomach in the recovery position.

A grab at his side revealed no weapon, as expected. Tony's holster was empty as well. He glanced around the room from his crouch by Dinozzo. They were being held in a medium sized room, modern enough looking compared to some of the holes he'd been trapped in in the past. The walls were white, but not blindingly so. Plenty of light coming from the overheads which were deeply recessed and likely shatterproof. No windows, one secure door. Gibbs and Tony had been dumped just inside the door on the upper level. Gibbs attention went immediately to the table. Just a plain looking kitchen table with two chairs, but it held two glasses, half full, and a small clock counting down from God-knows-what. There was 20 minutes left. What Gibbs jumped up for however was the cell phone. After a good look, it didn't appear to be booby-trapped. Even if it was, what choice did he have? Gibbs had begun to worry about his senior agent and glanced at his, Dinozzo should be coming around by now.

What the hell.

In one swift move, Gibbs picked up the phone and turned it on. He was rewarded with a beep that gave him a start. He peeked at Dinozzo, glad no one had seen him flinch. There was a video message playing.

'Good day Special Agent Gibbs. I don't suppose you recognize me. No? Of course not. It must be hard for a man such as yourself. To have so many enemies that you don't even know them all. No matter. You and Agent Dinozzo have until the timer reaches zero to consume the two refreshments I have left for you. Should you decline I will be forced to try another chemical agent on the two of you. I assure you, neither of you will wake.'

That was it, the message began again.

Hearing Tony move, Gibbs went to him.

'Dinozzo?'

'Yeah boss.'

'You ok?' Gibbs helped Tony up and got him sitting in one of the chairs.

'Fantastic boss. What happened?'

'Not sure. Last thing I remember was the elevator.'

'Riiight.'

As Tony sorted himself, Gibbs gave him the phone. As Tony watched the clip, Gibbs circled the rest of the room. A camera appeared to be mounted by the vent above the door. This is where the chemical agent would be dropped in, he had no doubt. The lower level was one step down and basically empty with a low, light green fake-leather sofa. A small blanket was thrown over the back and a coffee table completed the set.

'Dinozzo.'

'See if I can get an outgoing signal. Got it boss.' After a moment's hesitation… 'McGeeky!'

Gibbs swings his head toward Dinozzo. 'Speaker?'

'Even better boss.' Tony stood the phone up on the table and a tiny McGee could be seen on the video screen.

'Boss!' squawked McGee 'Where are you guys?!' Rustling could be heard in the background and first Ziva then Abby filled the screen 'Gibbs!!! WHERE ARE YOU?! I'm been so worried, and you've been gone for hours, and the video…'

'Abby. Calm.'

'Sorry Gibbs. Come home 'k?'

'Soon as we can Abs, now put McGee on.'

'I'm having trouble tracing your call boss. It's been routed and re-routed and re-re-routed.'

Gibbs gave his patented exasperated huff.

'Sorry boss, bottom line, right. We won't be able to track you from this signal for at least four hours.'

'Damit. Keep on it. Have Ziva looking at the building surveillance video. Give me Duck.'

Ducky's face swam into vision. 'Are you and Anthony alright Jethro?'

'So far Duck.'

'What happened?'

'We were in the elevator, some sort of gas pellet dropped and next thing I knew I woke up here. Dinozzo was out longer. Why?' Dinozzo starts to protest but one look from Gibbs shushes him. Tony looked like a smacked puppy.

'Well Jethro, Agent Dinozzo is young, he likely has a larger lung capacity than you, he may have inhaled more of the gas.' Tony smirked. 'However, it is more likely that his plague-weakened lungs were simply less able to metabolize the material.' Tony's smirk turned to a frown.

'Um hum. Ok Duck, we've got another problem. There was a message for us saying Dinozzo and I are supposed to drink these two 'beverages' in the next'…looks at the clock 'five minutes.'

'Jethro, I certainly don't have to tell you those glasses likely contain some sort of agent, a poison, hallucinogen, tranquilizer, virus, bacterium, the list is endless!' Ducky's voice is exasperated by the end.

'I know Duck, but I'm pretty sure he meant it when he said we'd both get a dose of a more fatal gas if those glasses aren't empty.'

Ducky's concern was plain on his face as Abby bustled about at the camera's edge 'Oh dear. I don't know what to tell you Jethro.'

'Damit.' Gibbs glanced at Tony with a worried look. The worry turned to determination.

'Dinozzo!'

'Yeah boss.'

'Take the phone and hold it up to the camera, maybe McGee can figure something from the make or model.'

'Right.'

As Dinozzo gets over to the corner he turns back 'I'll need one of those chairs….' Tony's voice dies out as he sees Gibbs plunk a glass on the table. Both are empty.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 – The room with two empty glasses**

As Dinozzo reached the corner he turned back 'I'll need one of those chairs….' Tony's voice died out as he saw Gibbs plunk a glass on the table. Both were empty.

'Boss!'

'Can it Dinozzo.'

Tony's expression was one of both frustration and worry. How could Gibbs be so stupid? He should have seen this coming. 'Ducky, I think we've got a problem.'

Ducky gently urged Abby out of the screen 'What is going on Anthony?'

With a frustrated, concerned, growl in his voice and one hand yanking his hair in frustration Tony stated 'Gibbs drank both.' 'Dammit boss, why'd you do that? You heard the Duck, those could have anything in them!' Even the doctor peered out at Gibbs, waiting for an answer.

Gibbs directed his comment to Ducky and did, to his credit, look as abashed as Gibbs can--which was not very much 'He's weaker' gesturing at Dinozzo, 'from the plague and the gas.'

'Good Lord Jethro…well, done is done. How much liquid would you say was consumed?'

Tony interjected, still fixing Gibbs with an angry glare 'two glasses, about three and a half or four ounces in each.'

'Thank you Anthony. Now, Jethro, what did the contents taste like? This is very important.'

'Chemicals Duck, what did you expect?!'

'Are you sure Jethro, not fruity? Tasteless? Perfumed? Egg-like? Almonds?'

'Nope. Chemicals. Strong.'

After a couple seconds conferring with a wildly gesturing Abby, Ducky faces the screen again. 'While being far from certain, it seems quite possible your water was laced with a high concentration of phencyclidine; PCP.'

'He's going to get high?' Dinozzo half laughed before glancing at Gibbs who was actually looking a bit rough around the edges.

'It's much more serious than that Agent Dinozzo. If you had both consumed one glass the effects may have been more minimal; dangerous nonetheless, but minimal.' Ducky's expression was chastising and pointed at Gibbs.

Dinozzo needed to know more, mentally bashing himself for being so weak Gibbs felt he needed to protect him this way 'What exactly do you mean Duck?'

'Working under the assumption that Jethro injested a very large quantity of PCP, he will likely begin to experience aggitation, fluctuations in consciousness, and extraordanarily high blood pressure.'

Tony's frustration was clear 'In English Duck! What do we need to know?!'

'It is absolutely vital that Gibbs not lie down, not elevate his feet, not injure his head…with blood pressure so elevated, he would be at imminent risk of anneurism or stroke likely preceeded or followed by convulsions or coma.'

Gibbs was looking overheated, his forehead beginning to sheen and his eyes were ringed with red 'There's no problem then' noted Gibbs sarcastically, 'I should be able to keep from falling on my head for a few hours.'

'I wish that were all...' Both agents looked to Ducky to continue 'Soon—any moment really, Jethro, you will likely experience a sort of blind, murderous, hallucinagenic rage.'

'Crap' That was all Tony could manage.

Gibbs turned on Dinozzo, eyes boring into him 'Knock me out. Now.' His look was deadly serious.

Tony looked horified, 'No way. Not having you stroke out on me boss.'

'Dinozzo!' then more quitely, but still firm 'Tony. I don't want to hurt you.'

While Tony knew full well that Gibbs could probably tie him in a knot and roll him around the room if he wanted, there was no way, _no way_, he'd risk Gibbs' life for his own safety. 'I think I can handle one old guy like you.' Tony said with a forced version of his silly grin.

Gibbs was beginning to look increasingly worried. Though he was trying not to show any sign of weakness, Tony's trained eye noted Gibbs hands shaking as he lowered himself into the chair. Tony sat in the other.

Suddenly, Gibbs was speaking to his agent as if there was no one else on earth, certianly no team listening on the speaker phone. With as much meaning as he could muster Gibbs told Dinozzo what he was most frightened of 'I could _kill_ you Tony.'


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 Fade to Red**

Suddenly, Gibbs was speaking to his agent as if there was no one else on earth, certianly no team listening on the speaker phone. With as much meaning as he could muster Gibbs told Dinozzo what he was most frightened of 'I could _kill_ you Tony.'

The two just stared for a moment, the small hairs raising on Tony's arms. Ducky broke the silence 'He's quite right Anthony.'

Tony's retort was angry 'What do you want me to do?!' Then quieter, 'Look Gibbs, I've taken my share of shit in the past. Nothing has managed to kill me yet…' a whisper '…even when I was only a kid.'

Gibbs was looking more feverish by the moment 'No time to argue Dinozzo.'

Duck's voice again interrupted the two 'Restraints! Anthony, tie his hands, quickly now my dear boy!' 'Gibbs, how are you feeling?'

Gibbs reply was terse, even for him 'Hot. Headache.' Meanwhile, Tony had pulled off his belt and was afixing it around Gibbs upraised wrists and forearms looking worried, but not for himself.

Through gritted teeth Gibbs grunted 'Tighter Dinozzo.'

Once the belt was tight, Gibbs gave it a few yanks. Just tugging at the restraints made his head pound so hard his vision jumped with each beat of his heart. He tried to ignore it, took a deep breath 'Who hit you Dinozzo? When you were a kid.'

Dinozzo really had no urge to go into the dirty details of his childhood right this moment. The fact his dad had beat him—near to death more than once—was in the past. And somehow embarrasing. Not to mention, he didn't want to make Gibbs any more upset than he was already becoming—but trying hard to hide. Tony hoped that the belt would be enough, didn't know what he would do otherwise. How could anyone protect themselves from a rampaging Gibbs_ without_ injuring him or even taking him down? Gibbs head was dipped a bit and he seemed to be breathing pretty heavily. Tony couldn't see his face but knew what he would see behind those steely eyes; Gibbs would be fighting with himself for control—would do anything in his power to protect Tony. That's why he drank the damn poison in the first place!

'God…the stuff that man is made of…' Thought Tony with such pride he found himself swallowing a lump in his throat.

Gibbs was his boss and mentor—'who am I kidding?' thought Tony. Leroy Jethro Gibbs was the father he had always wanted. No way in hell he was going to let Gibbs die under his watch.

Gibbs voice pulled Tony from his thoughts 'Your dad?' he was panting now looking up at Dinozzo with feverish eyes 'The one who abused you?'

Tony was surprised to hear his own voice, it was shaky and tinny to his ears 'Yeah.' Tony cleared his throat and threw caution to the wind 'My other dad.'

The gamut of emotions played across Gibbs face 'Ah God. Tony.' Inside, Gibbs wrestled with control of his raging adrenaline bobbing alongside such saddness—that anyone would abuse Tony. Especially when he was supposed to have been a happy little kid. Tony's comment—his '_other_ dad' floated through the increasing haze in Gibbs' mind. Did Tony really think of Gibbs like a father? Guess that shouldn't be a big surprise, Gibbs had felt, from the very beginning, that Tony was the son he had never had. Felt closer to Tony, as much as it hurt to admit, than he had to Kelly—spent way more time with Dinozzo than he'd ever gotten with his daughter. Gibbs thoughts were running together now, images of Kelly, of Tony, of Tony's father. Hitting Tony. Hitting Kelly.

''S ok boss.'

'Tony' Gibbs was gasping with almost every word now, still trying not to be weak, 'I don't think I can hold on much longer.'

''S ok boss, I've got your six.'

'It's not me I'm worried about Dinozzo!'

'Of course it isn't, never is' thought Tony wryly. Half-joking, trying anything he could think of to keep Gibbs talking and rational he asked 'Would it help if I forgive you now? Ya' know, before you kick my ass?'

Gibbs face was grim and he didn't seem to be joking when he looked to the man he felt was his own 'Might.'

'Don't worry boss, I forgive you.' Tony forced a big grin on his face and clasped Gibbs upper arm, he jokingly quipped 'I know you love me!'

Deadpan Gibbs shot back 'Damn straight Dinozzo.'

After a moment, Gibbs slammed his eyes and gritted his teeth, he was groaning, almost growling. Clearly fighting himself every step of the way and loosing.

'Really boss, I…you…' Tony was at a loss for words 'I owe you everything…it's going to be ok.'

Gibbs head was in his hands, clearly suffering he pulled at his hair all the while moaning, growling, fighting.

'Whoa there boss, gotta keep your head up.'

As Tony tried to ease Gibbs up straight, he started straining at his bonds, twisting as he fell to his knees he was crying out but not really seeing 'Arrrggh. No. No! Tony! No.'

All Gibbs could hear was a roaring buzz getting louder and louder as though a million bees encased his head, all thought was gone. He could see the man facing him, holding him up by the shoulders with a worried face and moving lips. Even that began to fade, a dark red haze filled his vision as surely as the white noise had filled his mind.


	5. Chapter 5

****Author's note, some implied violence and disturbing imagery ahead****

****Written to be a harsh, dark chapter, best viewed with some harsh music in the background (maybe a bit of U2 Bullet the Blue Sky?) enjoy!** **

**Chapter 5 – Fade to grey**

If time had passed, which it surely must have, Gibbs had no sense of it.

His vision began to clear, and from his staggering, barely upright, position Gibbs could just make out some blurry movement beyond his long and purposeful blinks. The buzzing began to quite and he could hear animated voices. Excited? Afraid? As the buzzing faded away, Gibbs was able to make out the voice of a friend…'Ducky?' Gibbs wondered. Was that the name to go with the voice? 'ya, ya, I think so' Gibbs thought. As he blinked his vision began to clear but his balance was getting worse. As Gibbs swayed on his feet a still-blurry Dinozzo began to come into focus. Gibbs blinked again and staggered. Tony—his Tony; he remembered clearly now—was crumpled by the overturned coffee table, hunched down, one arm barely keeping is head off the ground.

Before Gibbs could get his mind and voice together, Tony's back arched painfully and he vomited. Blood. A lot of blood. In a gasping voice, Tony called to the team who had been watching in helpless horror.

''S ok. Ok. He stopped.' Slurring now 'think Gibbs'…Gibbs' ok.' As Gibbs watched, head pounding and eyes wide, Tony flopped himself down onto his side, eyes screwed shut, only inches from the still-spreading puddle. Blood continued to trickle from the corner of his mouth as he panted each quick breath.

Another voice rang out, clear and more panicked than he had ever heard it. It was Ducky again '_Do not move_ Anthony!' he fairly shrieked 'Can you hear me?! Tony!! Don't move, you have internal tearing, ruptures, broken bones! If you move you will make it worse!'

Gibbs swung his head from Tony, to the phone, back to Tony. It was too much. Weak and confused Gibbs took a halting, stumbling, step towards his agent 'No…no, no, no. Tony.' His body would not obey, Gibbs feet tangled, he went down hard onto his knees. His head was spinning, pounding like never before as he too went down on hands and knees then even his knees gave way. Stretching out a hand towards his friend, Gibbs vision began to fade at the edges, his breath coming in gasps—loud to his own ears. What had he done? 'Tony.' As his blood pressure skyrocketed, Gibbs rolled to his back, eyes bulging and face red. His mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water.

Dinozzo's eyes were open in a flash his voice was weak but filled with alarm 'No boss. No, don't lie down.'

There was no way on heaven or earth Gibbs traitorous body was going to get up. His head was throbbing, vision wavering, and Gibbs was so dizzy he literally could not tell up from down. Managing to roll towards Tony, Gibbs gaze flitted, dizzy and jerking, settling on his clenched fist. His knuckles. They were battered and bloody.

His focus shifted beyond his hand and Gibbs saw Dinozzo dragging himself back onto his hands and knees 'Boss…boss, get up!'

Gibbs could hear Ducky shouting in the background 'Anthony, don't move, you mustn't!' On his hands and knees now Tony retched again, blood flowed in a thin but horrible stream from his mouth. Despite clamping his lips together Tony cried out as he moved to a sitting position. He barked once in pain as something ruptured. His shattered ribs stabbed blindly in the dark. Gasping now 'Boss! Come on. Stay with me!'

The last thing Gibbs saw as his vision turned filled with a cold grey light was Tony Dinozzo reaching towards him. Ducky's voice was coming from far away, from down a long hallway or maybe the past? 'Anthony!? Jethro!?'


	6. Chapter 6

****Author's notes:**

**~Implied violence and disturbing imagery ahead…it is sad**

**~Written to be pure angst, best appreciated with some appropriate music in the background (I'm going with 'If it be Your Will' by Leonard Cohen) **

**~Last couple chapters next week I think, thank you all for the feedback! Enjoy! ** **

**Chapter 6 - Jerking**

The last thing Gibbs saw as his vision turned filled with a cold grey light was Tony Dinozzo reaching towards him. Ducky's voice was coming from far away, from down a long hallway or maybe the past? 'Anthony!? Jethro!?'

Consciousness returned slowly.

Although his head throbbed (in a hang-over sort of way) the crushing, pounding, pain was gone. Gibbs blinked forcefully and although his vision began clearing, his mind refused to comprehend. Another slow blink. Gibbs found himself sitting semi-upright, propped against Tony whose back was against the sofa; head limply canted onto the seat. He was just barely clinging to Gibbs, one weak arm holding Jethro awkwardly to his chest—like a lifeguard hauling a swimmer to shore. The other arm lay limp, his fingers curled.

Gibbs looked down himself in shock, past Tony's arm, curled across Gibbs chest, past his own swollen and bloodied knuckles, to their two sets of legs. Between and around Dinozzo's well-ironed pant cuffs and polished dress shoes was large splash of blood; connected by drag marks to another. So much blood, Tony's. Gibbs groaned and screwed his eyes shut for a moment.

A whisper 'Oh, Tony.'

Louder 'Dinozzo?'

As Gibbs pulled himself to a crouch—still unsteady—the arm that had been holding him fell away, limp, with the other in Tony's lap. Louder now 'Tony!? Can you hear me?'

'Gibbs!' barked Ducky in the background.

As if he hadn't even heard his old friend, Gibbs focused on the man in front of him. Head dropped back, bruises darkening his jaw, eyes closed, arms and legs sprawled uselessly. Tony's face was so pale. Blood, it was everywhere. Collecting on the floor. Blink. All down one side of Tony's ripped dress shirt, t-shirt, his waist band, the pocket of his pants. Blink. Still wet—from his nose to his mouth, the trail disappearing into the neck of his shirt. Blink. A frightening pool right where they sat. Blink. A bloody handprint. Blink. Gibbs hand went to his mouth as his bile rose, his ears buzzed; he gagged and fell back on his rear, hand slipping in—smearing—Tony's blood. Gibbs clenched his jaw but did not vomit, did not pass out.

Gibbs opened his eyes and reached out with a shaking hand, touching Tony's neck, searching for a pulse.

Ducky was still trying to get his attention and could be heard in the background.

Gibbs heart lurched as Tony's eyes cracked open.

'Tony.'

'Oh, God. Gibbs.' Tony's voice was breathless and filled with emotion 'Oh, thank God, boss.'

Gibbs couldn't talk, couldn't swallow the lump that had risen in his throat. He'd done this. Tony was so hurt, so…broken, and his first thought was if Gibbs was ok?

Tony's mouth slackened and his eyes seemed to focus beyond the room. Gibbs found his voice, 'Look at me Tony! Stay with me son!!!'

Gibbs grabbed for the phone, standing it up beside them. His voice was torn and demanding, part bark, part sob, 'Duck!'

Ducky's sad and tired face filled the screen; he'd aged years in the last hours.

Gibbs looked back to Tony, his eyes were drifting shut. A weak, wet cough escaped his lips and a new stream of blood poured down Tony's chin.

Loud and frantic now, Gibbs was nearly hysterical 'Oh Christ! Oh God! Tony! Tony open your damn eyes!!' Gibbs hands mindlessly fluttering over Tony's face, his hair.

Ducky's voice was calming 'Take me off of the speaker Jethro.'

Gibbs did. With the phone in one hand he put the other gently behind Tony's neck 'What do I do Duck!?' Gibbs tenderly pulled Tony towards him, head flopping forward, onto Gibbs shoulder. Hot blood immediately soaked through Jethro's shirt as his eyes darted up and down Tony's back. 'No wounds, I can't see anything…' voice choppy and terrified 'but blood. Too much Duck.'

'Jethro.'

'Duck, help me here!'

Gibbs gently leaned Tony back against the sofa, grabbing the blanket and hastily tucking it around his shoulders 'It's going to be ok Tony. Team's coming.' Looking even more pale, eyes closed, Tony was mumbling. His right hand and right leg jerked. Once, twice, his pant cuff smearing a circle in his own blood.

'Duck!' Gibbs was near paralyzed with fear, roughly he grabbed Tony's hand into his own 'Dinozzo?!'

'Jethro, listen to me!' Ducky paused 'Anthony, our poor dear boy, he is dying Jethro.'

For a moment, time stood still, the world was silent, Gibbs blinked once, slowly. 'The hell he is.'

'I'm so sorry Jethro, the blood loss. You…I mean to say…he…sustained internal injuries that could not be survived. I…' Ducky took a second to compose his voice, which had begun to waver 'I saw it all.'

Gibbs voice was gruff, denial barely veiled by anger 'No! No, no, no…Tony, look at me! You have to stay with me! They're coming, McGee and Ziva and Duck…'

'Jethro. We are coming, should be with you within the hour. We all love Anthony. The others, they are inconsolable. I've sedated Abigail. Agent Dinozzo could be in the hospital right now and it would still be impossible. There is nothing that can be done…' his voice trailed off.

Gibbs lips moved but all that came out was a short, bitten-off, sob. He was shaking his head. He would _not_ break down!

'Are you listening Jethro?' Gibbs nodded mutely as if Ducky could see him—although he still had the phone up to his ear. 'Please make the dear boy as comfortable as you can. I'm so sorry Jethro' Ducky's voice cracked.

Gibbs dropped the phone and carefully pulled Tony into his lap, keeping his head up in the crook of his arm. Wrenching his handkerchief from his back pocket, Gibbs gently wiped Tony's mouth. Stroking Dinozzo's hair back, Gibbs leaned close—his Adam's apple bobbed as he tried to swallow that ugly lump. He whispered, 'Tony?'

Tony's eyes opened, and suddenly he was gasping and choking; terror filled his face. Gibbs quickly propped him higher, holding Tony gently to his chest. He was murmuring comforting sounds as Tony gasped and coughed, speaking into Tony's hair Gibbs said 'Oh God Tony, I am so sorry.' As Tony's airway cleared, Gibbs eased him back, Tony's neck felt cool in the bend of Gibbs arm.

''S ok boss.' Tony slurred looking up into Gibbs blue eyes which seemed to hold unshed tears. Again, Tony's right arm and leg began to twitch slowly, rhythmically. Although Tony's shoe made quiet scraping sounds and the blood continued to smudge across the floor he didn't seem to notice.

With tears in his eyes but yet to fall, Gibbs rocked Tony 'Hope ya' know I love you Tony.'

Tony smiled 'Knew it. All. Along. Your favourite.' He coughed, struggling for breath, Love ya' too.'

They were still rocking, 'Shhh, shhhh, rest now Tony. It's going to be ok.' Gibbs glanced up at the ceiling, gathering himself with a sniff, furiously blinking away the burning tears 'Ducky said you should just rest now.'

Tony nodded and let his eyes slip shut for a moment, his arm and leg continued their slow, languid jerking. Gibbs jammed one hand into his eyes, willing himself to be strong. Tony's eyes opened with a start, good hand grabbing for Gibbs, with a hoarse whisper Tony begged 'Don't lie down boss.'

Gibbs façade finally broke, he barked out a sob that couldn't be held back, his vision doubled with tears. Choking on is own words he soothed, smoothing Tony's hair back, 'I'm ok Tony. You saved me. You can rest now, son.'

Tony whispered 'Thanks dad…' They sat like that, for a quiet moment. The only sound made by Tony's slowly shuddering limbs—scrape, pause, scrape, pause, scrape. His eyes began to loose their focus. Then they were empty. Open, but vacant.

'Tony? Tony!' Gibbs eyes were roving, searching for life. In horror Gibbs was dimly aware that the jerking had stopped. Tony was still. Completely still, unblinking, motionless, limp. Gone. In panic, Gibbs gathered Tony to his chest and was horrified as his head lolled back. Cradling him with one arm, Gibbs used the other to ease Tony's head up. Chin quivering, mouth clamped tight, tears began to fall unbidden and hot. As Gibbs lips touched Tony's silky hair, short sobs escaped him, like barks, harsh and raw. 'No. Not my boy, not my Tony.' Another sob, long and agonizing—a dry heave of agony—tore through Gibbs as he pulled Tony back, looking into his face. 'No! Son, Tony…please.'


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's notes**

**~If you are an angst junkie like me and loved the story the way it was, you might want to just re-read the last few chapters and call it a day. If it had been just for me, I'd let it end at the end of chapter 6. I'm just saying.**

**~Next chapter will be the last. **

Chapter 7

As Gibbs lips touched Tony's silky hair, short sobs escaped him, like barks, harsh and raw. 'No. Not my boy, not my Tony.' Another sob, long and agonizing—a dry heave of agony—tore through Gibbs as he pulled Tony back, looking into his face. 'No! Son, Tony…please.'

Ducky paced. This was his 'final' method of dealing with pressure, upset, and endless hours of worry without sleep. Oh sure, he also told his stories, even rambled at times—the others had seen that side of Ducky for years. However, when Dr. Mallard was feeling well and truly desperate—like the others had never seen, he paced. He hadn't paced when Catlin died, there was nothing that could be done. He had been near-to-pacing when Anthony had the damn plague; Jethro had given the boy the will to fight just in time.

If he had been anyone else, the hospital staff would have ejected him hours ago.

Being Special Agent Gibbs' personal physician allowed Ducky to pace the floors of Jethro's small room relatively uninterrupted. To the casual observer, Gibbs might have looked peaceful, lying in his narrow hospital bed, head elevated and pillows fluffed. '_Discretely_ restrained' thought Duck. Ducky could feel the tension in his old friend. Gibbs had not regained consciousness since the team reached him and Tony. Gibbs was in pain. Mental agony. That much was crystal clear to Ducky. Gibbs muscles tensed, his skin almost writhing, hands clenched and relaxed, his jaw was tight as a leg-hold trap. For hours now Jethro moaned and shuddered on and off. Eyes racing under his darkened lids. Sometimes, there were tears. When he heard the short harsh sob, Ducky's heart broke for his friend. For such a fine man to have gone through so many terrors in life—and now to be trapped in some horror of his mind. It was all so unfair.

'Jethro. Dear fellow, can you hear me?' Duck tried—as he had for nearly 24 hours. 'Please Jethro; you need to open your eyes. I am here and we must talk. Everything will be all right'

As if to point out the error in Ducky's statement, Gibbs left arm clenched and his left leg jumped spastically. Once, twice. Ducky sat. 'You are right, as usual Jethro. Not _everything _is fine. As the neurologist told us, you've had a hemorrhagic stroke, in your right hemisphere. Not particularly surprising. You are giving us some trouble though Jethro. Your pressure continues to be high, but given the nature of your injury, nothing can be given to bring it down. I wish you would stop whatever it is you are doing to yourself in your mind.' Duck sighed tiredly and patted his friend's hand 'Given all that has happened over the past 36 hours, I am quite surprised you have held on this well for us my dear friend.'

There was no sign Gibbs had heard anything the doctor said or was any closer to consciousness—but for a time he was a bit more settled. Back to pacing.

An hour later a nurse entered and gave Ducky a warm smile as she checked Gibbs vitals and IV. 'Dr. Mallard, you should really go home, get a spot of rest.'

Ever debonair, he replied 'Thank you Trudy, for your concern. I think I will stay a while yet.'

As Trudy left, Ducky sat down to speak again. 'I don't suppose you know Jethro, but Agent McGee was able to identify and track those behind this crime…' Ducky's voice tightened 'against you and Anthony.'

'Come now Jethro, open your eyes and I will tell you all about it!' Nothing.

'Stubborn as a mule. Fine. You will of course remember Dr. Russell Pike? Yes, of course. He was responsible for the death of Lt. Seabrook—and almost Abigail. Well, Dr. Pike apparently has a brother. A very angry and bitter brother who was very much missing the millions they had planned. He is an industrial chemist of some sort. In addition to formulating the gas you experienced in the elevator, he prepared the PCP you ingested.' Ducky stopped, waiting for a sign Gibbs was with him. Nothing but the occasional left-sided tensing, jerking. 'Anyhow Jethro, this brother, Dr. Peter Pike—an awful name if you ask me—has very deep pockets. He seems have hired a number of professionals that must now be rounded up. That's where the team is; Abigail is providing support. You know they would be here if they could.'

'A wonderfully brave and professional bunch you've raised Jethro.' Ducky hastily dabbed his eyes, 'They are beside themselves Jethro. Worried sick. Please, for them?'


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note: I'd said this would be the last chapter, I lied. This is the second-last chapter, I felt like I had to break it up into one more piece. I hope the plot hasn't become too convoluted for most of you. Please review.**

**Chapter 8 – He is calling**

'A wonderfully brave and professional bunch you've raised Jethro.' Ducky hastily dabbed his eyes, 'They are beside themselves Jethro. Worried sick. Please, for them?'

McGee had tracked Dr. Peter Pike to the family's summer home. Abby called with the news; the local PD had picked him up an hour ago.

Ducky had been correct, the team was worried sick. They were far from operating at their best; distracted by worry and guilt and fear, they had found themselves backed into a warehouse. Both Pike's men were well armed and fair shots. Gibbs' team was pinned by sporadic gunfire, Pike's men between them and the loading bay doors.

Ziva called out 'Drop your weapons; you do not have to die here today!' Bullets responded, ricocheting off the crates closest to her. 'Fools!' she hissed. Ziva checked her weapon. Running out of ammunition. Ziva was confident that, on a good day, she could dispatch both men with her knife if need be, today was not a good day. Not at good day at all. The last thing she needed was to spook them into charging forward, the team was unprepared. She nodded to McGee across the aisle as he reloaded with his last clip.

'How did we get so blindsided?' Tim thought to himself. Gibbs would head slap them into next week if he knew. Gibbs…

Tim mentally shook himself. This was not the time.

Covering each other, the agents managed to get off half a dozen shots and advance a few rows of crates, moving towards their targets.

.

.

.

.

A moment later a cell phone rang out. The owner looked down at the screen, having had it in his hand since they left the hospital. Weapon in one hand, phone in the other. Waiting. No wonder they'd been caught out like this!

The phone rang a second time 'Ducky' flashed on the little screen.

Tony Dinozzo answered the call, worry gripping his entire frame 'Duck.'

When Dr. Mallard did not immediately respond, Tony's jaw—bruised from temple to neck—clenched.

'What is it Ducky?' Tony's voice rose, more shots rang out. David and McGee stared at Tony—their targets briefly forgotten. The senior agent was physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted, fragile as an eggshell. His voice cracked, betraying him 'What's happened?'

'Anthony, he is calling for you.'

In an instant, a ribbon of cold dread rose from Tony's stomach, up his spine, raising the hairs on his neck, drying his mouth, numbing his face. He looked ill and swallowed with effort.

'I'm on my way.'

In one smooth motion, without fear, without thought, Tony pocketed the phone and stood up. With a look of fierce purpose carved on his features, Tony advanced, striding towards Pike's men. Ziva and McGee watched, mouths agape. They didn't even have time to respond. Tony strode through a new volley of gunfire. He didn't flinch, blink, or alter his course. He raised his weapon, almost casually. Step, shot, step, shot, step. Both men were down and without breaking stride, Tony marched out the door.

Tony'd known fear already today. It had been building all day, roiling under the surface, gnawing, torturing him. These men, with their little lead slugs, just hadn't held the power to frighten him any further.

By the time Ziva and McGee had hastily checked the bodies, Tony was in the car and gone.

His mind was spinning. Gibbs was calling for him. Tony hadn't been able to bring himself to ask Ducky more. If there had been any good news, any reason to hope—he swallowed roughly—the doctor would have started with that. Speeding through the streets Tony sniffed, swiping at his damn eyes and nose with his sleeve. His vision doubled and Tony blinked back the wetness. 'Why?!' Tony shouted in his head 'why Gibbs!?'

Slamming his hand roughly against the wheel, Tony's mind drifted back to their captivity. Could that really have been only yesterday?

.

.

.

Gibbs had been holding himself together, arms bound, teeth gritted. Tony had seen the haunted look in the boss' eyes, the fear he'd hurt Tony. Then, it was like Gibbs was gone…his eyes holding nothing but madness. 'Here goes…' Tony'd thought. He'd tried to contain Gibbs, which worked for all of two seconds. Before he knew what happened, Gibbs had wrenched free of the belt on his wrists and smashed Tony in the jaw. Tony had been stunned by the blow, knocked to his knees and could not believe the force of that single impact. Now, driving like a maniac to the hospital, Tony vaguely remembered spitting out a mouthful of blood. He had known at that moment, with blood on his lips. He had known, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this raging monster—wearing Gibbs like a mask—was going to kill him. Oh God, Gibbs was going to kill him. Dying this way—beaten to death, even in front of Ducky, McGee, Ziva, and Abby—was something Dinozzo could actually accept.

What had frightened him more was what it would do to Gibbs. Gibbs loved Tony like a son—he truly knew and believed that. Tony knew this wasn't Gibbs fault. In fact, Gibbs had been trying to protect Tony from the beginning. Gibbs would not see it that way. Once the drug ran its course and Gibbs was confronted with the knowledge that he had killed Tony with his bare hands….The thought pierced Tony's heart in a way that the threat of his own impending death simply had not.

What Tony had not expected was his boss' last moment of clarity. For a few hard-won seconds, Gibbs' consciousness pressed through the red haze. He looked in horror from Tony to his own hands and back again. One barked 'No!' was the only sound he made. The madness was encroaching again; Tony could see Gibbs losing that last shred of control. Tony would never forget what happened next, would give everything he had to forget. Gibbs backed away from Tony, hands out in front of himself, staring at them in fear. Back, back, until he was in the corner of the room. In one swift moment the half-Gibbs, half-other chose Tony. He put his chin to his chest then with frightening force brought his head back connecting with the painted cement of the wall.

As he continued to drive, siren blaring Tony swore, vision blurring for what seemed the hundredth time in two days. The memory overtook him again. Gibbs eyes had rolled up and he had crashed to the floor. Tony had did all he could, held Gibbs on his lap with his head up like Ducky told him. Had covered them with the blanket and watched Gibbs breathe. He'd never been so afraid. For over an hour they had sat like that. The team was racing towards them. Tony had prayed, rocked, soothed. Held Gibbs hand and shakily touched Gibbs face and hair. At first he had joked and talked. By the time McGee came smashing through the door, Tony was pleading with Gibbs to hold on. Tony had promised everything would be alright.

But it wasn't alright. Once the noise and adrenaline of the rush to hospital had cleared, Ducky had told him. The concussion, the blood pressure, the PCP, it had been too much. Gibbs had suffered a stroke.

At first, Ducky had said that Gibbs was strong, healthy, in good hands—he'd be able to fight, he'd be ok. After the first two, four, six hours passed the prognosis became more guarded. Eight hours, ten hours. Ducky explained that there was still some bleeding. Gibbs blood pressure continued to rage uncontrolled. Gibbs had started mumbling, twisting; Ducky had gently and expertly applied restraints. It broke Tony's heart, he couldn't stand it.

'Ducky, I…I can't' the doctor had immediately understood.

'Go Tony, help the others, they need you. I will call if there is any change.' Ducky had sent Tony off just a few hours ago.

Tony's car finally jerked to a halt in front of the hospital. Rather than flying out of it as he had intended, Tony found himself with his head on the steering wheel. 'You _will not_ loose control' he told himself. 'You will not! Gibbs needs you.' Gibbs had called for Tony. That thought thrust Tony out of the car.


	9. Chapter 9

**Last chapter everyone...**

**Chapter 9—Good trade.**

Gibbs had called for Tony. That thought thrust Tony out of the car.

Tony's purposeful stride faltered as he reached Gibbs' room. He had walked right through Pike's men—weapon blazing, no problem, but Tony found himself paralyzed at the threshold of room 3-14. Through the window he saw the doctor hovering over Gibbs on the far side of the bed, heard the soft rumblings of his soothing voice. Truth be told, Ducky looked rumpled, old, and tired. Tony felt a pang of guilt.

Not only was Ducky hurting, but Tony had run and left him alone. Not because the team needed him. Because he had been afraid.

As Tony watched, Gibbs began to thrash again. Then he heard it. Short and anguished, a clipped sob…'Tony…' That one word _tore_ him. In a fraction of a second, Tony's emotions were laid bare—raw. Every defence he'd built up was knocked away with that one word. He had never heard Gibbs cry. Even when Kate was killed, he'd been silent and hard. To hear a _sob_ from Gibbs was like watching a newborn reveal a set of sharp teeth. It was wrong. A horror. An involuntary sob choked its way out of Tony in response.

Ducky's head snapped up. Their eyes connected through the window and before he had time for a conscious thought, Tony was in the room and the door was softly closing behind him.

He swallowed hard 'Boss.'

Although Ducky spoke to Gibbs, his eyes were on Tony 'Jethro, Anthony is here.'

Tony found himself pulled both towards the door and towards the bed. He wanted nothing so much as to be anywhere else, away from this soul crushing angst. He also wanted, needed, to be with Gibbs—how did he ever leave this room in the first place? As Gibbs jerked once, Tony's mind was made up. In one step he was at the bed and had his hand of Gibbs arm. 'Boss? Gibbs? It's me. Dinozzo. Tony. I'm right here.'

For the next while the two men stood watch while Gibbs fought his invisible demons. Ducky explained that there had been little change and gave Tony some information—in uncharacteristically straight forward terms. His face and voice conveyed exhaustion.

Tony tried to take it all in. Gibbs was agitated. What ever he was suffering inside was keeping his blood pressure dangerously high, the stroke continue to bleed. They couldn't sedate him any further. Too dangerous. Couldn't operate on the bleed. Too dangerous. Couldn't bring the pressure down with medication. Too dangerous. 'What do we do then Duck?!' Tony demanded in frustration.

'Wait. We can simply wait and be here Anthony.'

Tony opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again, unable.

'Anthony…' Ducky slowly and clearly stated, 'the blame for Gibbs' condition lies squarely upon the shoulders of those who put you two in that room. You must know that.'

Tony nodded weakly, unconvinced.

'I am going to get a cup of tea Tony. Can I bring you something?' Tony shook his head.

Tony sat in the quite for a moment but his mind haunted him with images of the horror in Gibbs' eyes after he'd hit Tony, of the dull noise Gibbs head had made as it connected with the wall, his mind replayed the haunting sob Tony'd heard earlier. He jerked himself out of his head. 'Come on Gibbs, open your eyes. Ducky's dead on his feet, he needs you…we all do. I need you to come back, k?' Nothing.

For the rest of the evening and into the night Tony sat with Gibbs, he talked about work, life, the movies. On and on Tony droned, one hand always on Gibbs arm. He didn't pull away when Gibbs jerked or moaned. Didn't flee when Gibbs cried out. He held on tighter and spoke as soothingly as he could. Hours earlier Dr. Mallard's body had finally given in and he half-sat slumped, dozing in a chair.

As Ducky woke, neck cricked, he took a moment to observe the two men. Tony prattled on, hand on his boss. He'd undone one of the restraints in the night and his thumb brushed round and round over the spot where the mark was beginning to fade. Although they thought themselves so different from each other, nothing could be further from the truth. If the situation were reversed the only difference Duck could imagine would be which one was in the bed and which in the chair. 'So like a parent and child' he thought. 'No matter what happens' Ducky thought, 'it has been a blessing for these two to come together.' Tony, fatherless, and Gibbs, childless.

Although he hadn't said it to Tony, Ducky had a fairly good idea of what Gibbs had been torturing his scorched mind with, knew what Gibbs' mind would have thrust forward from the depths of his darkest fears. Ducky knew only one memory that had the power to cause Jethro the pain he'd seen these past two days. Kelly. This time it was different and Ducky had been shaken but not surprise when Gibbs had called out for Tony.

'Anthony.'

'Oh, hey Duck.'

When he sat up and looked at Tony straight on, Ducky's heart pulled for the boy. His jaw was a mottled black and blue, clothes and hair rumpled, his eyes were red-rimmed, and he looked absolutely exhausted. 'Anthony. You need to rest…'

'Nope, I'm good Duck; and don't try and send me home.'

'I wouldn't dream of it Anthony. If anything, I'd say Jethro seems to be resting more comfortably with you here.'

A small grateful smile graced Tony face 'I sort of thought so too.'

'Go for coffee Tony, the nurse is going to want to come in momentarily anyways.'

When Tony returned to 3-14 he was still bedraggled but at least he was caffeinated. Tony saw Ducky, a nurse and Gibbs' doctor talking around the bed. For a moment, the urge to flee gnawed him again.

'Anthony!' Ducky called, he didn't look upset. Tony hesitantly entered.

'Gibbs blood pressure has finally come down. Nearly normal, which is as good as it ever gets for our esteemed leader.' Tony was tired and his mind wasn't really computing, but Ducky was smiling.

'That's good then, right?'

The other doctor spoke. 'I'd say so. It's too early to talk about what kind of permanent damage Agent Gibbs might be facing, but the bleed seems to have stopped. Barring relapse, I'd guess he should start coming around in the next few hours.'

'Thank God' Tony breathed, melting into his chair. He hadn't even realized that he'd been holding his breath, whole body tensed as the doctor spoke.

The doctors talked quietly for another moment and then it was just Ducky and Tony again. Tony looked up and blinked. 'Where are the others?' he suddenly wondered aloud.

'I'd asked them not to come.' Seeing Tony's confusion, Ducky continued. 'Jethro was only allowed one visitor and I was quite certain that he needed you here Anthony. I've been calling the others with updates.'

Tony seemed to think about what Ducky had said for a moment then let it go.

'Anthony…' Ducky started gently 'Jethro still has a lot to overcome. Although I would gladly wager on his working like a demon to come back to us, there may be some lasting impairments…' Ducky glanced to Tony, trying to judge how he was taking the news.

'No problem Duck. We'll be here.'

Ducky smiled fondly 'Quite right Anthony!'

Later in the day both Ducky and Tony were drooped limply over their respective chairs, napping. Neither noticed as Gibbs eyes cracked open.

What the hell? Gibbs hadn't a clue where he was or how he'd gotten there. Given the size and location of the stroke, he was waking into a world of distorted visual perceptions, up was down, near are far were one, shapes ran together. As he slammed his eyes again, swallowing back nausea, he remembered.

Tony. Oh no. No. Oh God, he'd hurt Tony.

Worse.

He was almost dragged under again—then refused to allow himself that solace.

The boy had _trusted_ Gibbs. Had though of him like a father. Bits and pieces of memory rushed his consciousness.

Tony was dead. Gibbs remembered now.

An overwhelming wave of grief, guilt, and fury crashed over him. 'The first chance I get…' Gibbs knew. Whatever forces had stalled his hand when he had first stared down the barrel of his weapon years ago, they were gone. He would do it without hesitation. At worst, this blinding agony would just end. At best, maybe he would be with them again. Shannon. Kelly. Tony. He could see them. The thought of Tony, gone, with Shannon and Kelly brought a sob to Gibbs lips. He couldn't bite it back.

In a second, Ducky and Tony were there.

'Jethro? Jethro?! Open your eyes Jethro. We are at the hospital and you are going to be alright.'

Gibbs swallowed. Ducky. Ducky had watched Tony die. Gibbs couldn't face him and kept his eyes shut, shaking his head as his hot tears burned. 'Go' he croaked out.

'Jethro!' the last thing he needed was for Gibbs to work himself into another stroke.

'Jethro!!' Ducky took a gamble. 'Jethro, Tony is all right.'

Gibbs opened his eyes—they swam with confusion and pain. 'No Duck.' He shook his head forcefully and tugged at his restraints, wanting nothing so much as to cover his face. 'I…I…' he couldn't speak, couldn't breathe.

'Shhhh, just breathe Jethro' Ducky urged.

'Boss?' Tony didn't know what to say, but Gibbs was scaring him.

Gibbs closed his eyes again.

Oh God, Tony's voice.

The lump in his throat wouldn't allow him to swallow. He deserved this. This pain.

'Gibbs…' Tony spoke again 'boss, it's going to be ok. Just relax like Duck say, ok?'

Gibbs cursed his own weakness, but he couldn't stop the tears. Tony's phantom voice burned. Sounding so real, so alive.

Ducky was looking worried. 'Jethro, Tony is alright, he is right here.' He commanded 'Look!'

Gibbs didn't know what to think or do. Why was Ducky doing this, why torture him? He deserved it. That's why. He had killed Tony. With a bark, Gibbs wrenched his eyes open. 'So sorry…' he gasped in misery. If not for the restraints, Gibbs would have been doubled over the pain was so sharp.

Ducky had pulled Tony close. 'Look Jethro, look. It is alright.'

A confused and tentative comprehension slowly entered Gibbs' eyes. It was not possible. 'No. Tony's dead.'

'No no no, boss! Look, I'm ok! You saved me.' Tony's face was close and hopeful.

Ducky interjected 'Jethro, you were drugged. Your mind has played a trick on you. Do you understand what I am saying?'

Not really. Gibbs shook his head tentatively.

'You and Tony were held captive. You were poisoned, but _Tony is not hurt_.' Gibbs was paying close attention now, blinking, trying to clear his vision. 'You were hurt Jethro, you have had a stroke and things may be confusing for you.'

'Tony?' Gibbs asked suspiciously.

'He's right here Jethro. Look.'

Tony ripped open the Velcro binding Gibbs right wrist and—minding the IV line—took Gibbs hand and placed it on the back on Tony's neck, holding it just below the head-slap spot.

A whisper, tentative and hopeful. Not entirely convinced, like a man who thinks he has just matched up all the numbers on his lottery ticket but hasn't double checked yet 'Tony?'

'Yeah boss. In the flesh.'

Ducky had moved to the foot of the bed and then to Jethro's left side undoing the restraints as he went. In a rare moment of softness, hand still on Tony's neck, Gibbs pulled Tony toward his chest. His weak left arm joined the other in a shaky embrace. 'Dinozzo.' He didn't care if he was weak, didn't care if the whole world knew.

'Yup.' Tony grinned 'I'm still waiting for that coffee boss.' Tony's smile was full and unguarded for the first time since he and Gibbs had entered the elevator two days earlier.

Over the next few days Gibbs' strength began to return, he was driving the nurses to distraction, and had enough MRIs to confirm that although there was some damage, nothing was getting any worse. Gibbs' perceptual problems combined with his short-term memory impairment fairly guaranteed Tony was a fixture in the room. The team and hospital staff had learned the hard way that if Tony wasn't there, there were terrible moments when Gibbs could not be convinced that his agent was ok.

Abby, McGee, Ziva, and Ducky came and went faithfully. As did the physiotherapist, occupational therapist, exercise therapist, and neurologist. Tony and Gibbs watched a lot of movies, Tony explaining when Gibbs mind could not quite figure out the visual information.

Ducky had convinced Tony to take a rare trip to his apartment to get cleaned up and have a rest. He sat as Jethro worked at his lunch with a marine's determination. Gibbs grunted 'One good arm, one good leg, memory's shot to hell, _and_ the wiring is messed up between my eyes and brain Duck?'

'I guess that is one way to summarize your difficulties Jethro. However, as you know, with time and rehabilitation, you may find that all of these difficulties improve. Or some. Or none.'

'Field work? Desk work? What?'

'That will, of course, depend on how well you come along Jethro. How great your improvements are. I would not be at all surprised if, a year from now, most of your capacities have returned.'

Gibbs fork dropped, again, onto his lap. 'Down an arm and a leg, my memory, my vision, _and_ my job Duck?'

'Well I hardly think….' Gibbs held up his hand to stop Dr. Mallard.

'Worst case scenario Duck.'

'Worst case scenario, of course. Well then, yes Jethro, you _may_ continue to suffer some lifelong disability. Partial paralysis on your left side, memory loss, difficulties with perception and emotion. They are all possible. You may need some help around your house.' Ducky took a breath, 'You might not be able return to NCIS.'

Gibbs chewed on that for a moment and then asked Ducky yet again, 'But I didn't hurt Tony?'

Ducky nodded, 'You did not hurt Tony.'

Gibbs harrumphed and looked at Ducky. He wasn't smiling but there was acceptance and satisfaction on his face. Gibbs nodded once, to himself. Although he tried to make his voice sound gruff, Ducky picked up on the affection just behind Gibbs' words as he began poking at his food again: 'Good trade.'

**The end! Thank you so much for reading, please take a second to review.**


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